Pawns and Players
by TheSilverHunt3r
Summary: Alex hasn't died. Or been deported. Or joined a terrorist organization. Or went on a desperate mission to save the world. In other words, it's a really boring week. Then the CIA call in a favor, therefore MI6 calls in a favor. As usual, Alex gets kidnapped. Oh, and unfortunately for Alex, most of his surprises don't include confetti. For Spyfest 2017.
1. Chapter 1

Pawns and Players

Alternate titles-Never Say Dead, Surprises don't always come with confetti

Psalms 29:6:Evil people fall into their own traps; good people run the other way, glad to escape.

"Waiting. Like it or not, it's a skill all spies have to master eventually."-Ally Carter

 **February 8th**

 **London**

 **Royal and General Bank**

 **08:27**

Alex had a dilemma, he both loved and hated Miami.

"Could I go somewhere else for MI6? Maybe not go up against my fifth major ring this year?" Alex suggested. His senior agent/freelancer status (its complicated), gave him much more freedom, but favors owed are favors to be replayed.

"Alex, it's either America or Siberia, choose now." Jones said in a exasperated voice. If anyone was going to drive her mad, without a doubt it'd be Alex.

"America." Alex answered immediately.

"That's what I thought."

"It's a Rider's job to amuse their employer." Alex said cheekily. Jones rolled her eyes and shooed the blond out with a hand.

Alex sounded eerily similar to John and Ian right then, fortunately he was leaving tomorrow. Every time Alex or Tom got bored, the 'bank' would be on the receiving end of several pranks.

Jones pondered the similarities between the three Riders for a few seconds. They all used sarcasm liberally, had blond hair, and walked into traps with abandon. They all had a bad history of getting caught, but a (estimated) 99% chance of getting out alive with their objectives completed

Tulip's thought process then led her to contemplate the individualites.

John was more stoic yet much more understanding, Ian had somehow kept a normal(ish) moral compass while he simultaneously laughed at life, Alex played pranks (with K-Unit and Tom) whenever he got the chance and was always there at the drop of a hat to help those he cared for.

Their skill sets were different. They were all rounders, but preferred or specialized in specific jobs. One was the 'perfect' unattached double agent, one the 'perfect' silver tongued negotiator, and one was the 'perfect' blood hound investigator.

The woman looked at her desk, it was covered in files to be done before the weekend. With a sigh, Jones clicked her pen and got to work. Her signature got more sloppy by the month. Apparently there was a reason Blunt's always looked like the doodling of a four year old.

 **Royal and General Bank**

 **08:29**

'It's a Rider's job to help their boss.' Ian had said with a grin.

Alex smiled at the memory as he sprinted through the hallways. His movements were graceful enough to be a ballet dancer's yet seemed to be a mocking parody of a Lindy Hop. A single ear bud in Alex's ear played music from his phone.

The 'bank' was always a mess in the morning. The blond dodged the constantly changing lines of operatives and desk workers by centimeters.

Those that were not too busy called out a greeting, most of which were MI6 operatives. Some of the operatives had run into Alex on missions, training, or (rarely) on the streets of London.

"Hey, Rider!" A stocky Scotsman called.

"Tuschan, how are you?" Alex replied.

"I'm doing good, you?" Tuschan asked.

"I'm doing well." Alex turned his head to call back as the two drifted away from each other.

"That's good!" Tuschan replied.

Alex jumped in a small alcove of slowly moving people interspersed with the a few who 'weaved' through the traffic.

"Grenvich?" Alex asked.

"Yes, what?" The woman replied as she turned back to face him. Grenvich was a desk worker, but not a foolish one.

"Will you pass this along to Moneypenny for me? It's a item she asked for." Alex proposed, somewhat awkwardly. In his hand was a small rectangular package of unknown origin to the female. A hopeful smile on his face.

"Sure, Rider." The woman answered with a sigh. She was passing by Moneypenny on the way, might as well drop something off.

"Thank you." The blond said with relief. Alex would be taking most of the day prepping for his mission.

"Oi, Rider! Got a minute for some recruits?" A thick Cardiff accent called out. Afon Hughes stood next to three unfamiliar faces.

Alex pulled out his ear bud to devote his time to inspecting the newbies.

"Bryan Tillan." The brunette man held a pokerface. Alex had the annoying feeling that the rookie was trying not to smirk.

"I'm Daisy Hatherforth." The woman said somewhat hesitantly.

"Last but not least, I'm Philip Yaer. It's a pleasure to meet you." The non socially awkward agent said with a large smile.

At the grin, Alex got flashbacks of Tom, Eagle, and (their most recent prank) a mass of glue and glitter that covered a cabin floor(don't ask). It's best to be on a social butterfly's good side. Who knows, maybe Philip will turn out to be as much of a prankster and troublemaker as a teacher-information broker and SAS soldier. Better safe then sorry.

"It's nice to meet you as well." Alex replied, a smile and nod being the only acknowledgment given to the rookies.

"They're alright, still pillocks." Hughes said good-naturedly. Tillan suppressed an eye roll. Philip frowned, slightly affronted at the hazing. Daisy bit her lip and sheepishly smiled.

"Like we weren't at first?" Alex replied to Hughes with amusement.

"True, mate, true." Hughes conceded. "Anyways, Rider was the best agent MI6 ever had."

"Was?" Tillan asked, the rookies were quite confused. The title of 'Best agent' raised some questions, but it was the last part of the sentence that bothered the trio.

The general thought of the rookies being 'if he resigned, why is he still here?' Most agents die or retire (or fake their death), and so don't come back (a great relief for some).

"He's-" Hughes was cut off.

"MI6 offers me jobs every once in a while." Alex said, his tone warning the four agents that there would be no further discussion on his employment.

Hughes shrugged. "Moving on, any-And we're late for training. Gotta run, Rider. Have fun!" The Cardiff man sped off, with the newbies trying to keep up.

Alex chuckled at the sight, the trio were eating their instructor's dust (not that there was dust in the immaculate hallways). Hughes hadn't survived five years in MI6 and four in SAS on marksmanship and intelligence alone.

The joy of finally being able to handle deadly weapons. Fun for most boys.

And it was wonderful relief for Alex to be able to have a (knock out) gun to protect himself.

"Two silver laser pens, the green light burns things, the blue temporarily blinds." Alex nodded. The two lasers were safely tucked into a chest pocket.

Smithers took out a pair of what looked like regular aviator sunglasses. They were tinted a dark purple, not that that was unusual. Then came what looked to be a cheap grey watch.

"Night vision glasses and a 'flare' watch." Smithers revealed and handed them to Alex. "That'll be useful." Alex muttered. Fortunately MI6 now sent back up, although he needed that less when he was over eighteen years old and more when he was fourteen.

"Three bullet resistant button ups." Alex unfolded a light blue one and felt the material.

"At what point does it stop bullets?" Alex asked, the blond noted the word bullet 'resistant'.

"It doesn't, just slows them down. This, is what is going to make a bigger difference. High quality undershirt, specifically for protection of the heart." A thin light grey shirt was presented.

"It doesn't look like it'll do much more then the others." Alex said dryly.

"Hmm, I can always test it out on you with your gun." Smithers replied.

"And, never mind." Alex conceded with a sigh. The Irish man man failed to smother his laughter at the spy.

"Supposed hand cream, as requested." Still chuckling, Smithers took out a tube labeled 'Butter Hand Cream.' The advertisement read 'make your hands smoother then butter.

"Here's your usual phone, x-ray, radar, etc." It was a sleek silver phone accompanied by a white charger.

"Also, I'm giving you something very special. This is both one of my friend's greatest inventions and regrets."

"What does it do?"

"It's a exploding fountain pen." Alex quirked an eyebrow.

"Like the exploding gel pen?" Alex guessed. Since it had the words 'exploding' and 'pen' in it, there wasn't much else it could be similar to.

"Yes. Twist the cap 360 degrees to the right and then to the left. It is on a ten second countdown." Smithers said, air demonstrating the motions of turning the pen cap.

"Now...I have hope that you won't bring back all my gadgets like they had been crushed by a compactor."

"Well...not all of them, maybe one intact..."

"Alex." Smithers said as a official warning.

"Just being honest, my psychologist says it's good to do sometimes."

Smithers snorted.

Alex turned to walk away.

Smithers said something under his breath, quietly, so that only Alex and him could hear it.

"Don't die on me prematurely, Alex."

It was Alex's turn to snort. "Of course. Same goes for you dinosaur."

"Ho, I'm not that old Alex."

"Oh, really? Fooled me then." Alex shot back a smirk.

 **London**

 **? Street**

 **09:17**

Alex's car was parked a block away from the Royal and General.

Alex turned a corner. Another teen, possibly Alex's age, was crossing the street on front of Alex. The teen wore a hoodie and sweat pants, and was somewhat hunched over in the 'rebellious teen" pose.

She turned and nearly fell over the bonnet of his car, which was crawling quietly along the street.

"Whoops." Alex commented sheepishly. The teen rolled her eyes at him, straightened up from her previously slouched posture, and walked over to the driver's side.

The blond pressed the button to roll down the window.

"So...Alex, is there a reason you almost ran me over?" The teen asked with some annoyance. Her accent (for now) was distinctly Canadian.

"Our families' luck?" Alex replied with a charming smile.

"Did you get a mission?" She asked after she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I did, 'Lily Trever'." Alex said, he purposely used her fake name to see how she would react. 'Lily' merely shrugged and gestured for Alex to go on with his story.

"Tulip had me up against the wall with a really hard choice." Alex continued.

"Uh ha, what was the choice?" 'Lily' asked good naturedly.

"I had to choose...between America..." Alex trailed off, his poker face still on.

"And?" 'Lily' raised an eyebrow.

"And Siberia. Hardest choice I've had to make in a while." Alex said dramatically.

"Sod off. The hardest choice you had to make recently was which one of the Duke of Gloucester's champagne glasses was poisoned with wax." 'Lily' light punched Alex's shoulder with a grin.

"Yeah, and then all I had to distract eight people and make sure I drank out of the poisoned one." Alex said with mock light heartedness.

"You did need some practice being a social butterfly." 'Lily' commented with a smile.

Alex rolled his eyes. "But, I definitely didn't want more practice on figuring out antidotes to unknown poisons." Alex deadpanned. 'Lily' chuckled.

"You want a ride?" Alex offered. "Nah, I'm fine." 'Lily' shrugged. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm going the opposite way. See you around, Rider." She said and put her hands back into her pockets.

"See you around," Alex replied.

After 'Lily' disappeared from Alex's line of sight, Alex checked his pockets. The blond found the small piece of paper with a phone number on it. Alex raised an eyebrow. Hopefully, Tom wouldn't find out that Alex had accidentally run into his only female team mate and that said team mate had given Alex a phone number. And Alex hoped that Tom wouldn't immediately assume that the girl wanted to date Alex, but Tom would assume.

Alex had at least two weeks of Tom not bugging him to call, if Alex didn't mess up. Alex thanked God that he was going to be out of the country for the next few days.

 **London**

 **Alex's flat**

 **010:49**

"I got that, and that. I'm going to need that..." Alex muttered to himself as he packed a grey and black back pack.

It was a nice apartment, in a alright neighborhood.

The bedroom had a two trusty knives under the pillow, an old desk with darts hidden between the books, a large closet with casual, formal, and knife resistant clothes, and a sniper rifle hid under the new colorful bed. It would take too long to mention all the various weapons and ammunition scattered under the removable floor boards.

A large soft Russian carpet covered the living room floor, on it were several comfortable chairs and a coffee table.

The main attraction inside the room was the shelves of souvenirs. Alex had decided to have always collect something to show for his missions after he turned sixteen.

There was a abnormally large tooth (from a billionaire's genetically engineered Bull Shark), a piece of twisted metal, a broken needle, and various other eyebrow raising objects.

The most curious one was leaned against the side of the shelf, it appeared to be an old table leg. The antique stick had odd scratches on it. It appeared almost like someone had used the wood to stop a large cat from clawing them in the face.

The cream tiled kitchen had several filled cabinets, a fridge, and a fake backing in the cabinets that was filled with weapons.

A pot of daffodils and white hyacinths grew outside the window. A small pillar had a unusual item on it, a pineapple.

The spy chose a new identity as he got out various passports, the name Rider raised too many flags. Alexander Faril seemed to be the best for this job.

Two large files sat on his table in front of Alex. After a deep breath to force himself to focus, Alex flipped to the summaries.

Mission En Prise

Objective:Track down a stolen gold chessboard

Sub objective:Gather intel on Lansy's operation

Operative:R****

Summary:A ivory chess set was stolen two years ago. The chess set has been sold around the black market for the past year. Lansy is rumored to be the current owner.

Summary of

M***** Lansy

Born July 4, ****

Height:152 cm

Personality:Charming and cunning.

Appearance:Older man, greying black hair, black eyes, square jaw, and large ears.

Habits:Commonly smokes and wears expensive suits.

Wanted by:Interpol, FBI, CIA, AISE, MI6, and several others.

Partner:Luciano Bridges (See page 35).

History:Jewish-Polish, American immigrant. Runs the Lansy smuggling gang in Southeast America. -

Notes:The FBI have been building a case against Lansy for twenty seven years.

Interrogations are commonly done by Lafitte (See page 89).

As of ****, suspected to live in Miami.


	2. Chapter 2

**Lauderdale-Hollywood**

 **Fort Lauderdale–Hollywood Airport**

 **16:56**

"Ring ring ring, banana phone..."

Alex stared at his phone incredulously. How, just how, did Tom change his ringtone again? Tom hadn't been near him for over a dozen days, and his phone had rang several times with his usual ringtone.

"Ring, ring, ring, banana phooonne~"

Alex let the ringtone play out as he thought.

Tom must have just set it to a few numbers instead of all of them, which was what got him caught in the past.

Well...there's always more embarrassing or amusing times for such ringtone to blare loudly, admittedly Alex would pay to see any of his current and former colleagues's reactions. Alex smirked at the thought of 'Banana phone' going off while he was in the middle of a COBRA meeting.

Finally, Alex had enough of the looks from the people around him. One group of teens were trying to keep straight faces and failed tremendously.

As the laughter of the teens played as back ground noise, Alex picked up.

"Hello, it's Tom." The raven said cheerily.

Alex smirked and then started speaking monotonously. "I'm sorry, the number you have reached is not in service-"

"I will completely trap your flat, and I will do it gladly." Tom threatened.

"...At least you didn't change it to Mission Impossible's theme this time." Alex gave up and replied normally.

"Yeah, look at the bright side." Tom said, Alex could FEEL Tom's smirk.

"Is there a emergency or what?" Alex asked as he rolled his eyes.

"Nah, just making sure you don't disappear on me, again."

"I didn't plan to do that."

"Didn't stop it from happening."

"This should only be four days max, and then I'm back for two weeks."

"Alright...mate, I'll see you when you get back. Have fun and don't get captured, again."

"Thanks for jinxing me Tom."

"You're welcome, bye."

"Bye."

 **Lauderdale**

 **Alley**

 **22:28**

Alex was hanging out in an alleyway, a hood covered his head. Dirt and grime covered the poorly paved ground. The blond was watching a shop across the street. Well, actually he was looking at the wide mirror to see who was in the street to his right,

His chosen mark stumbled out onto the sidewalk. A Mr. Chase, who was the ring leader in Lauderdale for Lansy's group.

All Chase had to do was walk his way, and not the opposite direction.

Alex took a breath to steady his racing nerves, he had approximately fifteen seconds to knock out and drag his mark out of sight before someone noticed him.

Chase walked left, Alex could have shouted with joy.

Chase passed the alley.

One, Alex quietly walked behind the man.

Two, Alex placed his arm around the man's throat. *

Three, Alex grabbed his right arm with his left.

Four, Alex squeezed.

Four, five, and six, the man struggled, and gasped for air.

Seven, the man elbowed Alex, the blond choked slightly but maintained his hold.

Eight, the man started to go unconscious.

Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, and thirteen, Alex dragged the man into the alley.

Alex kept up his choke hold for a few more seconds in an attempt to keep the man unconscious longer.

(Note:Being unable to protect yourself is one of the many reasons to not get drunk.)

Alex turned the man over and began his search. 'Where is it? Not the pant pockets, jacket, what else is there?'

Alex smacked his forehead as the thought hit him. 'I didn't check inside the jacket.'

If you're involved in anything that involves criminals, it's best for your health and others safety to get new devices every now and then. Most criminals don't realize the problems someone having your buddies' and boss's cellphone numbers poses.

Alex copied the man's relevant phone numbers onto a note pad and then the device slipped it back into the pocket. Chase would wake up, still out of it, and probably never remembered what happened. And if he did, according to his file he would run instead of informing his associates.

Alex frowned at the 305 number that was titled 'L'. **

'Looks like I get to go on a road trip,' Alex thought sarcastically.

 **Miami**

 **Safe house**

 **06:12**

Scenes from his past melded together into a horrifying story. They flashed by like a DVD that kept skipping over the happy parts of a movie, it stopped on one scene. The first person he had directly killed. He killed Grief, he killed himself. He killed-

Alex somewhat woke up. He was in that stage in which you know what you saw was a dream, but it still feels so real.

With a violent shake of his head, Alex forced himself to fully wake up.

He grabbed his sneakers from besides his bed, his phone and the house keys from the bed table. With shaking hands, Alex made himself to take and holster his gun.

Alex calmly went outside, locked the safe house up, and walked around the corner.

He began to run. Exercise was his stress and nightmare reliever.

There are three ways people expect you to come in. A, through the front door, B through the back door, and C through the window.

A bowl of chocolate ice cream with a spoon sat on a table. If you have volunteered to (or been blackmailed to) risk your life to save the world, it was Alex's opinion that no one should be tell you what you can eat for breakfast.

Alex unrolled the blueprints, marking cameras, windows, and doors.

He had picked up the keys, blueprints of a apartment complex, and duffle bag from a dead drop.

After dropping by at a hardware store on the way, he had what he need.

For those who don't know, D is other. Not thinking outside of the box gets you killed.

 **Miami**

 **Apartment complex**

 **20:35**

A low murmur from the tv in the apartment next door didn't help the men to not fall asleep.

There were three guards in the room. Roberts sat in a chair, he kept an eye on the balcony as he sipped coffee to stay awake.

Bange slept on the couch, while Che sat and had his eyes on the front door.

Between the two, a boy who appeared to be in his late teens snuck into the room. His eyes darted between the two guards. The shot was lined up mentally and the trigger was pulled twice.

Thinking outside of the box gives you an element of surprise. You can go through the ceiling or the floor, or...through the walls.

A three by three hole in the bathroom went unnoticed. What didn't go unnoticed was gunshot wounds when Roberts and Che were taken out. Bange started, he went through five seconds of consciousness before being swallowed by an inky black.

Looks like the trio would be getting their sleep tonight.

Alex checked the room, neither his man or his chess set was here. Alex's eyes widened. This was a set up. He should have checked out his intel more.

 **Miami**

 **Apartment complex**

 **17:28**

Alex walked through the halls. A duffel bag in a hand and sunglasses on his face. The three gadget pens were in his chest pocket.

Alex placed the key, it stuck for a second then turned. It was a simple place. The land lord provided a bed, a small refrigerator, and a table.

Alex grabbed the remote, the tv on.

The dialogue of a show echoed throughout the room as Alex set up.

Inside the duffel bag, were his chosen tools. A pencil and tape measure were used to mark several places along the wall, both diagonally and horizontally.

Alex carefully used an exacto knife to cut out chunks of the drywall. A pile slowly formed below his hands.

There was previously a door connecting the two apartments, but a door way still existed.

At 20:30 Alex holstered his pistols and unscrewed the cap of Butter Hand Cream.

The 'cream' was liberally applied to the wall. The dry wall appeared to be eaten away miraculously, it left a curious foam on the edges. The hole spread bit by bit.

Alex looked through the hole every once in a while to check that the coast was clear.

Now that you have the element of surprise, don't waste it.

 **Miami**

 **Apartment complex**

 **20:37**

A few people were in the building, but most were asleep.

Alex walked quickly away through the stair well of the complex. The stairs were smooth due to age, the unnatural starkness of fluorescent lights shown on the concrete, and the sharp smell of fresh paint wafted from the walls.

He got through the hallways, back door, and the parking lot with no encounters with the opposition. When he got within two hundred yards of his car he sped up. He was in a large open space, the brush scrapped against his legs.

The trees were thick on all but the one side that was towards the road. Alex had parked and covered his car in the grove.

Alex caught a flash of movement in the trees up ahead, but it was too late.

A sudden pain told Alex he had a few seconds max. The spy quickly sat down to minimize the damage to his back when he fell.

'It'll be a welcome surprise if it only knocks me unconscious, I want to punch whoever decided to aim right next to my wind pipe.' Alex thought and then fell unconscious.

A phone number was dialed quickly as the men told their boss the news.

"We have the package."

"Deliver it." Came the clipped reply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Miami  
**

 **Ware house  
**

 **02:48**

Alex came to, tied to a chair and stuck in a dark place. Knowing cliches (and the sometimes admittedly smart cliches) Alex guessed he was in a warehouse.

Alex shifted and then froze. The chair squeaked. A click echoed through dark space. Alex squeezed his eyes at the sudden bright light.

"Hello Mr. 'Faril'," whoever it was had a thick Hispanic accent.

"Hello. Who are you?" Alex asked with innocence.

"Or should I say, Mr. Rider?" The man drawled.

"I don't know who you're talking about." Alex replied, in a semi sarcastic atempt to keep his cover.

"Lying won't get you anywhere, Mr. Rider." The man said, and stepped back.

'But it did get you farther away, both in space and truth.' Alex replied mentally.

"You're quite young."

Alex shrugged.

"You know my name, Faril, do I get to know yours?" Alex questioned. The man tsked when Alex said Faril. Really, both of them knew the other knew. To be honest, Alex did it for the annoyance factor. Alex had a noticeable history of ticking off his kidnappers. Eventually over the years, it became habitual (and fun) to do it.

"Lafitte." The man said with a tone of finality.

"The fit? Oh, don't tell me...you're someone who goes with the 'survival of the strongest and everyone else in my way should/will die' world view, right?"

Lafitte repressed a glare. He would not allow someone two decades younger them him get under his skin. He would not allow someone two decades younger them him get under his skin. Lafitte repeated the words to keep his face neutral.

The interrogator decided to change the topic. It's best not to rise to the barb, or you risk swallowing hook, line, and sinker.

"All three exmilitary and traitors to their country's." The man announced.

"I'm surprised you managed to survive pulling off that stunt with my guards." Lafitte mused aloud.

"I'm surprised you hired those guards." Alex shot back.

A moment of silence passed before Alex's head whipped to the side.

Lafitte continued as if Alex hadn't said anything. "You did something very interesting."

"What?" Alex asked irritably.

"You didn't kill any of them."

"Bodies are harder to clean up."

"I've looked at your history."

Alex stayed silent, he surprised the urge to snap out a reply.

"You're tired, aren't you?" Lafitte asked.

"All the players of the game are pulling the strings, sacrificing those they see as unworthy, untroubled by the lives lost. They are untouchable by the pieces, players are the only ones who can destroy each other." Lafitte said quietly yet clearly. The words painted a vivid picture in Alex's mind as Lafitte hoped they would.

"What are you suggesting?" Alex asked neutrally. Mentally Alex noted how ironic someone saying that Alex was a pawn, when Alex was looking for a chess set.

"The terms can be discussed at a later date. You're tired of being a pawn, si(yes)?" Lafitte continued to press.

Alex raised his head, and looked squarely at where he guessed that Lafitte's eyes were. Alex asked the question that had been on his mind since his interrogator painted the long held view of the world wide game.

"If I'm a pawn, what are you?" Alex asked with a smirk.

The man was silent, he stepped outside the visible area.

Alex jerked as a cloth was held against his mouth and nose.

Alex stiffened as he smelled the all too familiar slightly sweet smell. Several minutes passed with Alex resigned to unconsciousness. As Alex slowly fell asleep, he rethought what he should have said. He should have come up with a better one liner.

 **Miami**

 **Warehouse**

 **05:19**

Alex woke up grumpy, uncomfortable, and with a aching jaw. This time, the light was still on.

It was bright inside the ring of light, outside was complete darkness. Alex breathed silently as he checked for sounds. Nothing as far as Alex could tell.

On one hand, they were smart enough to take away his guns and phone. On the other, the criminals weren't smart (coughparanoidcough) enough to take away his pens or watch.

So, all Alex had to do was use his mouth to get the burney through pen, and aim around his restraints.

There was one problem.

Alex glared at the two identical silver pens.

Alex had enough of this mission already. He didn't want to get to the part where a millionaire threatened to feed him to some exotic pet (for what, the hundredth time?).

Alex sighed. He could think of only one solution.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,

Catch a tiger by the toe.

If he hollers, let him go,

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

O-U-T spells out, you are not it."

Alex mentally fist pumped as he picked the right pen. The burning smell of duct tape filled Alex's nostrils. Alex worked his way through the duct tape on his limbs, and attempted not to sneeze.

Alex tried to slide his way out of the chair silently. The wood creaked. Little by little, the blond made progress until he stood up. Alex muttered a thankful pray for his shoes still being on.

Then someone close shifted. The sound came form something outside of Alex's visibility. The blond froze.

Alex decided to do the thing you should never do in horror movies and check out where the sound came from.

Slowly, Alex's eyes adjusted to the dark.

A table was placed next to some that sat in a chair.

Alex carefully inspected the table top. There was a small container and aviator glasses. Alex smiled, and slid the night vision glasses on.

Alex turned his focus to the container. Lafitte didn't take long to get the chloroform. Lafitte had to have had the chloroform nearby and ready. Now, it was the only thing on hand for the spy to use that wouldn't kill the man Alex guessed was Lafitte.

The man woke up and struggled, muffled sounds escaped the cloth. The few minutes required passed and man went limp.

Alex decided to check out what items the man had on him. And sure enough, there was his phone and his gun. Alex took the knives, and pulled the magazines out of the pistols.

His shirt had been taken, which left him in his undershirt.

If Smithers was to be believed as usual, the material would stop (at the least, Alex hoped it slow down) a bullet.

Well armed, Alex crept down one of the halls at what seemed to be the side of the building.

 **Miami**

 **Warehouse**

 **Guard room**

 **05:36**

There were two guards by the front door, and three scattered around the back. The rest of the guards were all in a small room together. The tv was turned up, a show blared, and those uninterested in watching played Texas Hold 'em.

Several of the people had been knocked out of the card game. It was down to three people, Sliver, J.C. and Mitch.

Sliver had his usual scowl, J. C. chewed bubble gum, and Mitch held a poker face.

There was a knock at the door. After a minute or two of incessant knocking, Mitch noticed. "Hey James, check it out" Mitch ordered, and jerked his head to the door. James did so, and didn't return. It took 46 seconds for J.C. to notice.

The guards went on high alert. The guards filled out of the room, and methodically checked the rooms off their hallway.

Which reminds me, J.C, would have won the game had it continued.

The spy waited in a room, he listened to the men get closer. Alex opened the door and stepped out of the hallway. Alex twisted the pen head. Alex peeked into the hallway and lobbed the pen.

"Think fast." Alex yelled, squeezed his eyes shut, and dropped to the floor.

The explosion was the right distance to injure the men, but not kill them.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...Alex counted mentally as he shot the men. Not that they were dead, they just had an unwelcome nap.

The explosion caught the other five guards attention. They followed the emergency plan, split up, check all the hallways and rooms, rendezvous at the main area.

The two guards from the front were caught off guard when they came out of a room. The gunshots were something the last three guards recognized.

Alex ran to the opposite corner of the building. The three guards did the same as they went towards the sound, doing what is what you don't do in horror movies. But that is what you do when you're a paid guard, so they are excused. The guards and spy passed each other due to going the opposite direction using the opposite way.

Unfortunately for the last three guards, Alex was at the end of the main area when they got there.

Alex shot, and hit one. The other two ducked behind a crate.

Alex jumped around the corner. Bullets hit the ground with a teck-tick-tech. The guards split up and made their way through the wood crates and cardboard boxes. Alex pulled the trigger as one guard appeared in the space between two boxes, and missed.

With growing frustration, Alex moved behind the box to his right. Alex waited for a second and then moved to the next crate on his right again.

Alex listened for the guards footsteps. On was close and to his right, the other was about forty yards away and to his left. Alex took five steps to the right. His heart beat pounded in his ears. The blonde hauled himself on top the crate, aimed quickly, and squeezed the trigger. Alex rolled off the crate and sprinted towards to last guard. The area was hard to run in as it was cluttered with boxes.

Alex squeezed the trigger and then tripped over a box. His sunglasses flew off and onto the floor. Alex's hand tore through into the box next to his stumbling block. The spy scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. The item next to his hand felt like...a chess piece?

"Why would they store it here?" Alex asked the floor with confusion.

"Wait a second, it's a 'warehouse', I'm slow sometimes." Alex muttered. Alex slid on his sunglasses, and looked at the piece.

Probably, objective found.

Alex pulled out his phone and squinted. The dim light showed the chess piece to at the very least be metal.

Alex started to dial one of the phone numbers he had memorized years ago. He didn't have to used a pay phone like that one time. It was funny...after his clothes weren't soaked and his socks didn't squish with every step.

"This is Carlos's Intelligent Auto-mechanic the how may I help you?"

"Hey, this is Alex Rider, can you come pick me up? I was kidnapped. I have some people I'm pretty sure you'd like to interrogate." Alex listened to the man on the other side of the knee.

"Uhh...I'm in a warehouse somewhere around Miami...I think?"

 **Miami**

 **Safe house**

Alex packed his bags again, not that he'd taken out much when he got here.

A wipe down of all the surfaces he touch with his hands was the procedure (after a long hot shower).

Lafitte, Chase, and several others were caught or being chased down. Lansy had run far underground.

Alex arranged a meeting, dropped off the chess board and information gathered on Lansy, and picked up his new passport.

Alexander Faril is staying in the Florida Keys. Alex Brancho is flying to London.

"And that's the end of it." Alex said.

"There will be a plane ticket for the 7 o' clock flight out of Miami left at ****** st." Mrs. Jones replied.

 **England**

 **London**

 **Royal and General Bank**

 **15:36**

"Hey Smithers!" Alex called out in the brightly lit room.

"Hello Alex! What is it?" Smithers replied.

Alex placed down the surviving gadgets with a grin. (All except for the still surviving undershirt, he was keeping that.)

The Irish man's jaw dropped. "Are you pulling my leg?" The adage of 'too good to be true' hadn't failed Smithers until now.

"Nope." Alex replied with a grin.

"This is the first time in my life that an agent returned with most of their gadgets intact." Smithers said with disbelief.

 **Chelsea**

 **19:23**

Alex picked up the mail from his mail box.

Alex flipped through them as he walked to the door. Bills, bills, bills, letters, and a postcard.

Alex's (spidey) senses tingled as he walked through the door of his Chelsea house. The mail was placed on the table by the door. A pistol was pointed to the floor as the blond made his way to the living room. Hopefully it would be a friend (Tom, Fox, and Eagle had a habit of raiding his refrigerator much more commonly then Alex would like).

Alex flipped the lights on and glanced around the room.

"Surprise!" Alex flinched.

Confetti rained down on the astonished spy. Alex gaped at the sight.

Jack, Fox, Wolf, Eagle, Snake, Tom, Smithers, Jones, and Crawley (aside from Smithers, the MI6 persons were blackmailed/guilt tripped into going by Tom) had jumped from behind furniture in his living room.

A banner that read 'Happy Birthday!' was hung across the bookshelf.

What day was it? He hadn't realized what day it was. That's right...It was February 19th. A tear slipped down Alex's face before being wiped away roughly.

He had forgotten it was his birthday. But, his friends hadn't.

There was birthday candles were blown out, sarcastic remarks, cake sliced, ice cream shared, banter exchanged, and the endeavor of keeping Eagle from having too much sugar. Thank God K-Unit prevailed.

The mail was forgotten for that night.

 **Chelsea**

 **06:30**

In the zombielike state of tired teens, Alex stumbled to the kitchen from the living room. Alex started the coffee machine, threw eggs and sausage on the stove, and suddenly remembered.

Alex drank his morning coffee while he sorted through the mail. Once again, bills, bills, bills, letters from friends, and...a postcard.

On the front was a picture of a large square with cream, tan, and yellow buildings. A large church was centered in the middle of the shot. Santa Croce Piazza it read in the top right corner.

Who would be sending him a postcard, from Italy of all places?

Alex flipped it over to check the writing on the back.

Compleanno gioioso, Alex

0700

Alex's hand shook.

Alex could be there in under a day. It might be a trap, it probably was. Alex was going to walk into it regardless. If Jack could be alive, then why couldn't any of the others?

Alex peeked into the living room. He stopped as he saw the people asleep in the living room. Wolf and Fox had claimed a sofa each. Crawley and Snake were in the two armchairs. Eagle was sprawled out on the floor with all abandonment of a child at a sleepover. A few feet away from Eagle, Tom's head peaked out of a swath of blankets. Jack was probably upstairs in her bed.

He could wait a few days. It was probably a trap anyway.

 **February 18th**

 **Florence, Italy**

 **Santa Croce Piazza**

 **08:59**

A large white church was at one end, while restaurants surrounded the square. Stone benches and elegant lampposts were placed around the edges.

Some people played historical figures and taught small crowds, tourists took pictures of the area, and chefs hurried to make their orders.

The laughter of locals, barks of loud and irritated chefs, and chatter of friends fillled the air with sounds. In the distance a dog barked loudly at a passing tourist in the street.

A blond man walked through the square. To the experienced eye, the way he flowed with the crowds was unnatural. To those who knew the trick well, he stood out like a sore thumb instead of blending in.

The bell rang. It's perplexing loud and harsh yet sweet and ancient sound echoed through the plaza.

The man's noted peculiarities continued as he didn't stop, barely seemed to acknowledge the sounds, didn't pull out a phone or camera to record or take pictures, and even at this distance seemed familiar.

After the bells ended, the man sat on a bench in the shade of the church.

A pair of laughing children ran past the man towards the church door. The parents scolded the children when they caught up.

A man stood unnoticed in the 3rd floor window of a restaurant.

He was an unknown man, few knew his face. He went unnoticed, just as he liked. He gave the appearance like he shouldn't be there, he shouldn't exist. It was an apt appearance, considering he was supposed to be dead.

He looked at the square through a pair of binoculars.

"Life is full of surprises." He mused.

 _Explanations:_

 _*Rear naked choke, can knock people unconscious in under ten seconds._

 _**305, the area code for Miami, Florida, Miami-Dade County, and the part of Monroe County in the Florida Keys in the United States._

 _*** Compleanno gioioso, Alex=Happy birthday, Alex. 0700 is army time like I have been using for this entire fic. 0700=7 AM._

 _Bonus-Faril, randomly chosen yet sounds a bit like Peril._

 _Historical references_

 _Lansy is a reference to Meyer Lansky. He was a major organized crime figure in the 1900s._

 _Luciano is a reference to Charles 'Lucky' Luciano. After an attempt to extort Lanksy, Luciano became good friends and eventually partners with him._

 _Lafitte, Jean Lafitte was a notorious pirate in the early 1800s._

 _Okay, R &R please! _

_-Silver_


End file.
